


It's a two player game, right?

by audrey (waywardflower), PunsAndBulletsAndPointyThings



Series: things my amazing beta bean audrey writes [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angsty gays, Cliffhangers, Cryptids, Cuddling, Fake Science, Fear, Getting high, Harpies, M/M, Making Out, Monster!AU, Monster!Jeremy, Post-Canon, Post-Squip, refusing to say goodbye
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardflower/pseuds/audrey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsAndBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsAndBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: Written by Audrey."I love you." Michael repeated.Jeremy's heart sank. No. No, not Michael. No. He turned away. "Don't do that to yourself." he said.So Jere isn't human and when Michael tells him he loves him Jeremy's worried.Now a multichapter fic!





	1. It's Not Safe

**Author's Note:**

> So hi! It's Audrey again. This was inspired by a picture I saw on the Internet. I hope you like it.

Michael handed Jeremy the joint and Jeremy took a long hit and passed it back. They'd been smoking for about a half hour and Jeremy was nice and high by now. As usual, his thoughts wandered. And as usual, they wandered to Michael.

Michael. God, Jeremy was so gone on Michael. He didn't even realize it until after the play. Dating Christine didn't last, and he kept thinking to himself, _Michael would've gotten this joke_ , or _Michael would love this_ or _this would be so much more fun with Michael._ But it wasn't until he thought of Michael WHILE kissing Christine that he realized his feelings for Michael were, well, not so platonic. He was gone on him. Hopelessly in love with Michael Mell. But he could never tell him, not ever. Jeremy couldn't risk it, not with Michael.  

Michael who was currently snapping his fingers in front of Jeremy's face. Jeremy broke out of his daze. "W-what?" He asked.

"Jesus, how much did you smoke Jere?" Michael asked.

"I, uh-"

"You know, sometimes you make me wonder why I'm in love with you." Michael froze. So did Jeremy. "I- I didn't-"

"What?" They said at the same time.

It was like instinct, pure, primal instinct, and the high certainly helped, because the next thing Jeremy knew, he'd grabbed Michael by his hoodie and was kissing him.

And Michael, Michael kissed _back_. Jeremy couldn't believe it. Then he got control over his brain again and pulled away, starting to sputter excuses already.

"I love you." Michael said suddenly.

"W-what?"

"I love you." Michael repeated.

Jeremy's heart sank. No. No, not Michael. No. He turned away. "Don't do that to yourself." he said.

This time Michael was confused. "What? Do you, do you not love me back?"

"No!" Jeremy shouted. "I-I do. B-but-"

"What do you mean then Jeremy?"

"I mean don't! Don't love me. Don't do that to yourself. It- it won't end well."

You see, Jeremy had a secret. He wasn't entirely... human. He looked Human, sure, but he wasn't. And he kept blacking out and waking up covered in blood with no memory of what he'd done. He didn't know what he was, only that it wasn't safe. _He_ wasn't safe. No one was safe around him. Not his dad, not Christine, not Rich, and not even Michael.

"I-it's not safe."

Michael scowled. "What? Loving you isn't _safe?_ What kind of bullshit excuse is that?"

"I'm serious, Michael!" He yelled. "I-I've been... hurting people. I'm not human."

Michael froze in shock. "What?"

"I don't know. I-I just, black out and wake up covered in blood, and not my own blood either, and I have no memory of what happened and then I turn on the TV and the anchorman is talking about how some person was brutally murdered the night before and it's ME! I-I'm h-hurting people Micha, don't you get it? D-don't make me hurt you too. I-I don't want to hurt you, Michael, you're all that I have. S-so do yourself a f-favor and d-don't."

Michael stared at him. "I, Jere, I can't, I can't _not_ love you."

"Well, try." Jeremy spat out.

"You think I haven't tried that!?" Michael roared suddenly, "you, you think I haven't spent months, years, pretending I'm _not_ hopelessly in love with you? Pretending I wouldn't do anything for you if you asked me to? Trying with everything I _have_ not to love you? I've _tried_ , Jeremy. It doesn't work." He looked away, suddenly sad, and grabbed for Jeremy's hand. "I-I don't know what's going on with you Jere, but I know that you won't hurt me. We'll figure this out, together. I-I don't want to do this without you."

Jeremy, against his better judgment, squeezes Michael's hand back. "Neither do I."

"Then don't. Let's just get through this. It's a two player game, right?"

Jeremy looks at Michael and smiles a little. "Yeah. It's a two player game."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of 11/1/17, this is a multichap fic!!!


	2. What's a Harpy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry in advance for everyone who wanted floofy werewolf Jeremy but Wayward flower and I became obsessed with the idea of Harpy!Jere and I couldn't not do it. And he's just as furry as a Harpy as a werewolf. Fanart at the bottom and in the chapter. Also I'd like to apologize for the scientific, genetic talk in this chapter.

Michael left Jeremy's house that day slightly confused, but incredibly determined. He didn't know Jeremy was one of them, and apparently neither had Jeremy. You see, they lived in a world where monsters were a common occurrence and lived peacefully with humans, and violence was a rarity. Usually if you were a monster of some sort it was genetic and passed down to you from one or both of your parents. They'd teach you all about your monster heritage and how to control yourself and behave in society before you underwent the changing.

But something was obviously different in Jeremy's case, cause Jeremy didn't know he was anything but human until recently, and his father hadn't told him anything. It was rare, but sometimes the monster gene would remain dormant for generations before becoming dominant enough to show. Perhaps Jeremy's relatives were carriers of the M gene but not dominantly until Jeremy, which could be why Jeremy had no idea. Or it could be on his Mother's side, maybe his great grandmother or grandfather were what Jeremy was, but couldn't help him cause they didn't know his M-gene was dominant rather than recessive, and since Jeremy's mother left they'd have no reason to want to contact him, if they were even still alive.

Before he'd left he'd asked Jeremy to tell him everything he knew about his "situation". The nights that he had no memory of were random and weren't correlated with the full moon, so Michael could confidently check Werewolf off of the list of suspects. Besides, if Jere was a werewolf, Rich would've undoubtedly smelled it on him, being a werewolf as well. Jeremy mentioned that when he woke up he was always sore and felt strange in his own skin, he'd described it as wearing a sweater that had stretched twice its size from wear, and then shrunk 3 sizes too small in the wash overnight. He also described a tingly, pricking sensation on his arms, he'd scratch at something he thought was on them, only for nothing to be there. From this Michael gained that Jeremy probably underwent physical transformations, not unlike how a human turns into a werewolf in the light of the full moon. Michael had winced sympathetically when he figured this part out, worried for Jeremy and the pain he probably went through growing larger. That's what he concluded happened, he grew larger and some extra feature grew out of his arms.

Jeremy mentioned occasionally finding large brown feathers in his bed in the mornings and the occasional leaf or twig in his hair. Michael had asked to see one of the feathers he had and he held it in his hand now as he sat in front of his computer thinking. It was a lovely feather. It was very large and the color of milk chocolate. It was speckled with a darker brown and the occasional dark blue. Judging by the shape it was a primary flight feather, Michael had had a birdwatching phase as a child. He held it up to the light and it seemed to glow.

He put the feather down on his desk and pushed back against it, propelling his swivel chair backwards towards his bed. He flopped down on his bed and looked up at the plastic glow in the dark stars on his ceiling from his space phase. He rubbed his temples, trying to will away his headache, too stubborn and lazy to get up and take some Tylenol, even though he knew it would hurt more the longer he waited. Eventually the pain got too much to bear and he staggered off of the bed, shielding his eyes and rummaged for some Tylenol in the medicine cabinet. He took two with a large glass of ice water and laid back in bed with a wet hand towel on his forehead. He promptly fell asleep.

He woke up some time later, the sunlight shining in through the window illuminating specks of dust floating lazily through the air. He sat up and stretched. He had to figure this out, for Jeremy. Usually the internet was his go to source for research, but he had a hunch, and he'd need to use the public library to try it out. He said something vague about going to the library to his mothers and drove there in his gold PT Cruiser.

When he got there he headed straight for the reference section. He grabbed a large volume tilted Monster Lineage. A lot of times there were large families with specific monster bloodlines and Heere could be one of them. He flipped to the H's and after a bit of searching he found the Heeres. "Damn," he said aloud to himself. The Heere family seemed to do a lot of cross breeding. It turned out Jeremy had siren ancestors, kelpie ancestors, one bakunawa ancestor, Michael whistled to himself at that part, because, damn. He also had werewolf blood, an old great great great half uncle who was a vampire and something called a Harpy. Michael wrote down all of the monsters there'd been in the Heere family history and went to one of the many computers.

He looked up each of the monsters, but none seemed to fit until he started reading about harpies.  


_ Harpies; Harpius monsterus, are creatures of the sky. Harpies are relatively rare, and very strong. The Harpy is larger than an average human and have large feathery wings. Unlike Angels, Harpy wings don't sprout from one's shoulder blades but are more similar to actual birds and bats in that the skin stretches and grows between the hand and the waist, where feathers protrude. Their noses grow and harden until they resemble a beak, although the beaks are non functional as mouths and merely serve as noses, though the sharp hooked end might have once been used to tear apart food, it seems as though they've evolved as the Harpy retains its normal human mouth. The Harpy's legs transform to resemble those of a large bird of prey, their feet become taloned and their legs scaly. They also grow a tail. An emerging Harpy will transform back and forth from human to Harpy several times during a period lasting from 2-3 months. The transformations only happen at night and the Harpy usually has no recollection of what happened. There is no set schedule for which nights an emerging Harpy will transform, it is random. Once the young Harpy has undergone all of its temporary transformations it will undergo one last permanent transformation, where they will emerge as a fully fledged Harpy permanently.  
_

_ Behavior: _

_ The Harpy is not typically aggressive to humans but it is not uncommon for an unknown group Harpy fledgling to attack humans without knowing during their blackout transformations. This behavior is usually treatable by someone teaching the Harpy to hunt for rabbits, owls, raccoons, foxes and they occasional coyote instead. Harpies tend to prefer animal meat to human, so it's not difficult to sway a Harpy to pursue different prey. Harpies mate for life and are known to present to those they want to mate with. The process is complex and usually consists of a series of dances and wing displays and nest building. Like the bower bird they instinctually build large scale "nests" that consist of things their preferred partner likes and enjoys. Sometimes the younger harpies won't even realize that they are presenting to a person until another more experienced Harpy points it out to them. Harpies have been shown to not be picky species wise with mates. It is very common for harpies and humans to mate and the same is true for other monster species.  
_

There was more on other things about harpies but Michael had seen enough. So he was 99% positive t hat Jeremy was a Harpy. But the question is, how would he tell him, and how would he stop him from unknowingly attacking humans without putting himself in danger?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, sorry but, Harpy boi! Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Be sure to comment/leave kudos cause it's scientifically proven that those make me write more faster.


	3. It’s Even Worse Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys I’d get the next chapter out. Sorry it’s so short.

After some internal debate Michael printed out the webpage on Harpies and left the library. 

Initially, Michael planned on showing the information to Jeremy in a day or two, but then the words “the nights of the transformations are completely random” flashed through his head and he decided that the sooner Jeremy knew, and by extent, the sooner Michael could help him, the better. So he drove straight to Jeremy’s house from the library. 

                       * * * * *

Jeremy clutched tightly at the papers, knuckles going white, and face paler than usual. Michael was struck with the distracting and mildly disturbing thought that soon Jeremy’s hands would probably be larger, and scalier, and have talons, and wings attached to them- he cut off that train of thought and focused back on Jeremy. 

 

“A Harpy?” Jeremy finally managed to choke out, and Michael nodded. Jeremy went even paler than before, if that was even possible, and sat down quickly as if he were afraid if he kept standing he’d pass out. 

 

“But I can help you! It’ll be fi-“

 

“No.” Jeremy interrupts, voice shaky. “D-don’t say it’ll be f-fine. I-it won’t be. This, this explains everything.” 

 

“Exactly! I’ll be able to-“

 

“No! M-michael don’t you s-see?This is e-exactly why I- it’s e-even worse n-now. Y-you won’t be a-able to h-help me, M-Micha. I-if you- if you try, I-I could hurt you. I- I don’t want to h-hurt you, Micha. I don’t want to hurt you. T-this is bad. I- you c-can’t help. I- I won’t let you h-help.” He looks down at the ground and Michael sees a tear fall off of his face to the floor.

 

He wants to hug Jeremy, to comfort him, but he doesn’t know how Jeremy will respond to that. 

 

“You-” Jeremy gasps over a strangely back sob, “you should g-go.” He looks up at Michael and his face is set in a kind of determination that breaks Michael’s heart. “F-for your own g-good.”

 

Michael steps closer and reaches out a hand to touch Jeremy, but he flinches away. Michael’s heart cracks along the fault line that came from cracking so much and splits apart. He looks down and steps back. “Okay.” He says softly, quietly. He turns to go, but as he hesitates Jeremy rushes forward and kisses him quickly. 

 

But then it’s over. Jeremy pushes his lightly towards the door before backing away from Michael. He sighs and exits the room, closing the door behind him. 

 

As he walks away he hears a faint “I’m so sorry,” from behind Jeremy’s closed door. 

 

It only makes him hurt more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst? Angst.   
> Sorry for all the angst. Is it because I’m suffering from the realization that my best friend that I’m kind of in love with who goes to a different high school may not even consider ME her best friend too anymore and we’re slowly drifting apart and we haven’t hung out in months and she hardly ever answers my texts, at least none of the ones about us hanging out, and I never even told her how I feel, and I’m slowly dying from the heartbreak that comes from realizing that you’ve already lost your best friend who you never even got the chance to find out if she could’ve been more?   
> ... no of course not, what makes you say that? Hahahahahahahahahaaa...
> 
> Anyway on a happier note I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and I hope all of you have happier love lives than mine, aka none and being heartbroken over someone who was never even yours in the first place, not even an almost, a what if. 
> 
> So yeah, be sure to comment and leave kudos. Also suggestions for this story or any story are appreciated. I take fic/ship requests. Pretty much anything. 
> 
> Also have a great Veteran’s Day


	4. The Transformation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings, running away, pain, (non-graphic) descriptions of (animal) death, implied blood and gore, cliffhangers.

Jeremy shivered from the cold, pulling his thin cardigan more tightly around himself. _I should’ve brought my jacket._ He thought to himself.   
  
But he hadn’t planned ahead. He hadn’t planned at all. After Michael had left Jeremy had sat in shock. He was a Harpy.   
  
After some debate he emptied out his school backpack, the letters “Boyf” still stubbornly there, and shoved a weeks worth of clothes and non perishable food in it. He brought a phone charger, a change of underwear, a sewing kit, (his clothes always ripped after his blackout nights) some deodorant, and a can of dry shampoo.   
  
Then he’d hastily written a note to his dad that explained everything. “I don’t want to run away. But it’s not safe to be around me. Please don’t look for me. I love you.”  
  
Then he put on his backpack, turned his phone on airplane mode and left.  
  
3 days later, Jeremy’s wishing he’d thought this out better. Or at least brought a pillow and a blanket. He’d slept under a bridge, which was _fun_ I know, in a slide in a little kid park, which made him think of watching Parks and Recreation with Michael, which made him sad, and last night he slept on a bus stop bench. Every time he saw a gold PT Cruiser or a gray Sedona he’d hide behind the nearest structure and hope it wasn’t Michael or his dad and that if it was, they hadn’t seen him.   
  
Tonight he was going to sleep somewhere new but for now he was standing alone in the dirty, rest stop esque boys bathroom at the park a town over from Middlebourough.   
  
It was usually cold at night, but tonight was... different somehow. He was shivering uncontrollably, and it was on the verge of painful. He felt a sudden sharp pain in his spin and flinched with a loud “Ow!” Then he fell to the ground, twitching and retching on his empty stomach.   
  
He curled up into a ball, whimpering in pain as his body grew larger and larger, changing. His nose grew and hardened into a beak, tiny feathers erupted on his body like acne would when he broke out, a tail sprouted from his body, large feathers grew from his arms, forming wings, his legs grew scaly and tinted yellow, and his feet transformed into large raptor like talons, shredding his shoes to pieces. Had anyone walked by at the time they would’ve only heard Jeremy’s screams of pain, the inhuman sounds of his body painfully changing, and their echoes.   
  
After the changes stopped, he remained curled up on the floor, whimpering as the aftershocks faded slowly away. Then he sat up. He turned a calculation head around, scanning his surroundings. He knew something he hadn’t known before. A name. “Jeremy.” It sounded alien and foreign on his tongue, but nevertheless, he knew. This was _his_ name.   
  
Jeremy spread his wings wide, and shrieked shrilly in annoyance when the bathroom was too small for his wingspan. He knew something else, too. He was hungry. He was very, _very,_ hungry. He exited the bathroom, it was dark outside, as it always was. With a powerful flap of his wings he took off into the sky.   
  
He was so hungry. He flew high above the ground, and searched for food. He spotted a coyote and his eyes narrowed. He was so hungry. He swooped down, talons outstretched and aimed for the neck. With a satisfying snap, he reached the coyote and broke its neck. He wasted no time in ripping the animal open and gorging on it. He was still hungry. Jeremy took to the air again with a screech.   
  
He scanned the ground beneath him again, covering large amounts of ground with each powerful wing beat. Another coyote would not be enough. He needed something bigger. And he’d learned his lesson about trying to go after cows from the painful kick to his chest he’d gotten last time. He needed something in the middle. Larger than a measly coyote, smaller than a cow.  
  
Suddenly he spotted a flash of color. Red. It was unusual, definitely unnatural, but it piqued his interest. Jeremy swooped silently ahead of the figure in red and perched easily on a large tree branch, hidden by the foliage. He could now see more of the red figure. It was a human. Jeremy liked those. Not as tasty as other creatures, but plenty of meat. And this one most certainly had plenty of meat. It was a male, not a full grown adult, but almost, probably about 4 inches shorter than Jeremy himself, and he wasn’t red. He was _wearing_ red. He seemed to be covered from head to waist in the red covering, perhaps it was armor of some kind. No. A memory. A word. _Clothing._ Another memory. An image of something red, soft, warm, the feeling of home. The word that came to mind was hoodie. The human was wearing a red hoodie. He was darker of face than Jeremy’s previous human meals, tanned the color of sun kissed desert sand. The human looked rather normal actually, but he was muttering to himself, which was strange. Jeremy could only pick up bits and pieces, but that was only because the human didn’t seem to be speaking entirely out loud. He’d speak a few phrases then go silent, seemingly continuing his conversation with himself in his head. What Jeremy did hear was, “stupid... of course you shouldn’t have told him... where is he?... such a fuck-up, God, Michael.”   
  
Jeremy paused, the word, the name, it held some significance. Maybe he shouldn’t, he could always find another... But the Harpy was hungry and Jeremy decided eat first, think later and swooped down, landing directly in front of the red-hooded human. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha cliffhangers! Please comment it makes my day and makes me update faster.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The “oh shit it’s Jeremy. Double oh shit, he’s a Harpy rn. Oh shit” chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I got my stuff taken away cause I got in trouble and when I got it back my inspiration dried up and my laziness took over. So thanks to PeachButter who’s comment genuinely inspired me to get off of my lazy ass and finish this. So you have them to thank.

In hindsight, walking outside in the middle of the night every night since Jeremy ran away probably wasn’t the smartest idea. But hey! On the bright side, he found Jeremy. But on the not so bright side, “Jeremy” wasn’t exactly the same Jeremy that Michael knew. He loomed threateningly over Michael, large wings (arms?) outstretched and face covered in traces of what looked like blood and strips of animal flesh. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified. Jeremy took a menacing step forward and Michael immediately flung his hands protectively over his head, shrieking “Jeremy!”  
  
And... he stopped. When Michael dared peek through his fingers it was to see the Harpy version of his best friend frozen, head cocked to one side in curiosity, confusion, and what Michael hoped was recognition. Slowly, Michael removed his hands from over his head and said in what was an attempt at a calm and steady voice, “Jeremy. It-it’s me. It’s Michael. Your best friend. Your favorite person. Y-you know me, Jere. You don’t want to eat me. Y-you’d much rather eat an animal than a person, especially your best friend. Right?”  
  
Jeremy stared at him, blinking slowly. There was a moment of loaded silence before Jeremy opened his mouth and, “M...M-M-Michael.” Jeremy’s voice sounded like his normal voice, but the WAY he said it wasn’t normal at all. It sounded like he hardly knew how to speak, much less words, names. Jeremy took another step forward and Michael took a step backwards. Jeremy stopped, and his expression almost looked... hurt. “Mmmichael.” He parroted, speaking TO Michael now, not just at him. Addressing him. “Mmichael.” He stopped, brows furrowed in thought and then said, “Friend?”  
  
Michael’s heart just about stopped out of relief. “Yes.” He said. “I’m Michael. We’re friends. And friends don’t hurt each other.” He took a slow, deliberate step towards Jeremy. “You know me buddy. You’d never hurt me.” He stretched out his hand, trying to ignore how ‘How To Train Your Dragon’ the movement felt. Jeremy seemed to almost relax, his shoulders slumped and his wings lowered. Michael took another step forward. He was so close... with every step the recognition in Jeremy’s eyes seemed to grow. Another step. And then another. His hand was mere inches away from Jeremy’s avain-esque body. Just another step and-  
  
His phone rang. ‘Say It Ain’t So’ by Weezer suddenly blasting and Jeremy let out a high pitched, bird-like shriek. Michael feared for his life when Jeremy crouched down but let out a breathy sigh of relief when instead of attacking, Jeremy took off into the night sky. He quickly fumbled for his phone to see who was calling in the middle of the night. Rich. ‘I’m gonna kill him.’ Michael thought, swiping decline and his phone went silent. He slouched out of his tense posture.   
  
Then large, eagle-like talons wrapped around his shoulders, lifting him into the air and he screamed. He kept screaming as Jeremy took him higher and higher into the sky, his mind repeating ‘I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die.’ in his head. He would’ve screamed himself raw if Jeremy hadn’t muttered “Hush,” in that not accustomed to English voice and landed on a very large, VERY high up branch in a very tall tree, letting go of Michael for a terrifying split second to land, but then Jeremy grabbed Michael with his winged arms and pulled him against his chest, wrapping his wings protectively and securely around Michael.   
  
Michael blinked. He didn’t know what to make of this. Jeremy rested his chin atop Michael’s head, practically nuzzling against him. “Michael.” He said. “Safe.” Michael was incredibly confused, not to mention really conflicted. Part of him was fucking terrified, but the other part of him was actually really enjoying this. Jeremy, even winged Jeremy, being cuddly and protective was literally a dream come true.   
  
“Umm... Jere?” Michael said tentatively.   
  
“Hush.” Jeremy repeated. “Michael safe now.” He said, and Michael felt bad for internally comparing his choppy spoken English to the way The Hulk talks.   
  
“Okay.” Michael squeaked.   
  
“Sleep.” Jeremy commanded, wrapping his wings tighter around Michael atop the large tree branch he was perched on.   
  
Michael REALLY didn’t WANT to sleep. He had a small fear of heights, and, at the moment, a small fear of Jeremy, too. But he was tired and Jeremy was warm, familiar, despite being physically new, and, somehow, safe. Michael found himself unable to reply as the drowsiness started to take hold and he yawned largely.   
  
Jeremy yawned too, a strange sound coming from a large bird human thing. But then Michael fell asleep and, not long after, so did Jeremy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhohohon. Your welcome for freaking you out with lotsa “almosts”. I kinda freaked myself out. Don’t worry, the branch IS large enough for the two of them, even with Harpy wingspans to stretch out comfortable without falling off. So when they wake up as long as Jeremy doesn’t freak out and starting flailing everywhere, they won’t fall off. So, send Jeremy your hopes and wishes to not freak out. Remember to comment your thoughts or literally anything cause it’s PROVEN to get me off of my lazy ass and write and upload. Not to mention they make my day. Even if you just want to shout at Jeremy for scaring Michael I’d appreciate it. I shout out loud at TV shows I watch, and books and fanfiction I read. I promise I don’t judge. Also I’m taking fic requests too, so if you have any ideas please comment them and I’ll do it. Have a great day.


	6. The Compromise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: So I’m going to try my best to continue to post this despite the communication and  
> posting account kind of challenges.

Jeremy Heere naturally wakes up in stages. First he opens his eyes, then he immediately closes them because, “Ugh, light.” Then he slowly wakes up his other 4 senses. This Saturday morning was no exception.

Jeremy opened his eyes, saw blurred shapes and colors through the thin veil of sleep, and closed them again. He smelled the sweet and vaguely spicy cinnamon vanilla scent of Michael’s shampoo with the faint trace of weed that was undoubtedly, exclusively, _Michael._ He sighed a little to himself. He must’ve been dreaming about Michael again. The smell would fade, like always. Then he felt the pain.

First of all, he had a crick in his neck, he must’ve slept on it wrong, but that was nothing compared to the pain all over his body. His arms, his back, his legs, his face, everything. He must’ve transformed again last night. Vaguely he thought to himself, _‘Well at least I wasn’t around to hurt any of my friends.’_ He was holding something large in his arms, and his sleep deluded brain assumed it to be his giant teddy bear, something he only had at home. But then the “giant teddy bear” shifted, stretched, and yawned and Jeremy’s mind went totally, terrifyingly, blank.

His eyes shot open and, _oh **fuck.**_ It was Michael. Jeremy was cuddling- was practically _wrapped around_ Michael. He started screaming. Michael immediately woke up, noticed Jeremy’s impending freak out induced panic attack even though he was still half asleep, and, like the good friend he is, immediately started comforting and calming Jeremy. He jumped to his feet and ran to Jeremy, wrapping his arms around him and guiding him into a sitting position. “Shh, shh, Jere, it’s okay. It’s okay. There’s no reason to freak out. I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay. Shh, Mahal. You’re safe, I’m safe. We’re safe. It’s fine. It’s okay.”

It took a bit, but Jeremy was finally calm enough to speak. “Michael...?” He asked quietly.

“What. The. Actua-? What the h-hell? W-why- why are you here? Why am I here? W-we’re in a t-tree! I-I’m in a tree! You’re in a tree! Y-you have a fear of h-heights!!”

“Only a small one,” Michael muttered.

“A fear of heights is a fear of heights, Michael! I-I _changed_ again last night, I-I can feel it! S-so why are you with me?!” He threw his hands in the air, which prompted him to look down at himself and he freaked out even more. “I-I’m still spotted w-with dried b-blood! Ahh! What did I do?? What did _YOU_ do?! What did I do to you!? Why were you- What happened?!” He shrieked, near white with panic.

“Well, uh, I’d been wandering around in the middle of the night looking for you and—”

“I told you not to look for me!!” Jeremy screeched.

“Okay, first of all Jere, please don’t interrupt me. Secondly, you only told your _dad_ not to look for you, you never told _me_ not to.” Jeremy opened his mouth to start to protest but Michael cut him off before he could start. “And third, even if you _had_ told me not to look for you do you honestly think I would’ve actually listened to you? Y-no. Nuh-uh. You’re my best friend and I had to find you. Anyway, uh, I did. Find you. But, really, uh, Harpy-you found _me._ And uh, I think you’d just eaten an animal or something, cause, well, that’s definitely what it looked like. Anyway, you were kinda acting like you were gonna eat me—”

“EAT YOU?!?”

“Hush. So, I kinda freaked out about that. But when I screamed your name, you stopped. You seemed to realize that you knew me so like you said my name, kinda. And I went into a long and fast ‘we’re friends so you don’t want to eat me,’ speech and you said my name again but then you said ‘friend?’ and it was a question, so I responded yes, and you seemed to be starting to remember so I stretched out my arm and got closer—”

“You got CLOSER?! Why would you—”

“AND it almost worked but then Rich called and ‘Say it Ain’t So’ spooked you and you flew off. For a second I thought you were going to attack but you just flew away.”

“If I flew away then why are you here with me right now?”

“I wasn’t finished. I guess you flew off and circled back cause then you grabbed me with your bird feet things—”

“I DID WHAT?!?!?!”

“And you carried me off.” At this point of the story Jeremy began rocking back and forth  
muttering “oh no oh no oh no oh no” to himself until Michael reached out and covered Jeremy’s hand with his own. Then he stopped. “I was screaming the whole time until you said ‘hush’ which actually worked, surprisingly. Then you flew into this tree, let go of me to land—” Jeremy turned white.

“Bbbuuuut! Then you grabbed me as soon as you landed and kinda, pulled me to you? It was like a hug from behind. With arm wings. Anyway, you went on about how I was ‘safe’ now—”

“In a tree??” Jeremy protested but Michael continued speaking over him.

“—in kinda broken English and kinda... nuzzled on top of my head.” Jeremy turned pink. “I started to say something, but then you told me to sleep, and I guess we both did. And then you started—” He faltered and started again. “A-and now we’re here.”

Jeremy had the distinct impression there was more to the story than Michael was telling him, but decided to let it drop in favor of other, more pressing matters. “Michael, I could’ve killed you! I _almost_ killed you! Several times! Why would—”

“But you _didn’t_ kill me,” Michael interrupted. “And you didn’t kill anyone. Any, uh, people, that is. So that’s good.” Jeremy grabbed fistfuls of his own hair and started tugging and pulling out of pent up frustration and stress. “Hey hey hey, Mahal, don’t do that.” Michael said, frowning at the self-inflicted action, removing Jeremy’s hands from his head and clasping them together in his lap.

“Don’t you _get_ it, Michael? Th-the fact that I ‘didn’t kill anyone’ last night shouldn’t be a  
Brightside. It shouldn’t even need to be mentioned. I-I shouldn’t be attacking people _at all._ ”

“Don’t _you_ get it, Jere? You didn’t attack anyone. I stopped ~~it, with my head~~ you. You _listened_ to me. You _can_ change, Jere. I can _help_ you change. I’m fine. _You’re_ gonna be fine. You can be helped.” He smiled widely at Jeremy and his enthusiasm, his pure _belief_ that Jeremy wasn’t hopeless was contagious.

Jeremy found himself starting to smile too, despite himself. “You really think so?” He asked, and his voice had that hopeful, vulnerable lilt to it that he kinda hated.

Michael nodded. “I _know_ so. I’ve been doing some research and I found a harpy help group.”

Jeremy must’ve pulled a face because Michael laughed. “Okay okay, that was the wrong term. It’s kinda like a... club. A meet up, an alliance.” His eyes lit up suddenly and Jeremy could tell he’d come up with a good example. “So you know how I advocated for the school to start up GSA? It’s sort of like that, for Harpies and their friends, family, and people who support them. And you know, not LGBTQ+ focused. I actually went to a meeting Tuesday afternoon. There were lots of harpies there, Jere. They were really nice and supportive. I asked them some questions and they all seemed to agree that the whole ‘hunting for live food’ thing was completely unnecessary for a casual Harpy lifestyle. They said that it was just a thing that unaware Harpy fledglings did more out of outdated survival instincts than actual necessity. And that it’s easy to change. I mean, once you change permanently it’s not like you won’t be you anymore. Most of them eat the same stuff they always have, just with a bit more meat, typically more rare than well done, in the diet. They told me the animalistic side usually wears off after several transformations. And judging by your recognition and, albeit messy, English abilities I think that’s already started wearing off.”

Jeremy felt kind of speechless. _Michael did all of this for him?_ “Michael—” he started.

“Let me be there for you, Jere. Next time. I can handle it, I’ve proved it. I helped you, and I can keep helping you. Plus, I think ‘Mr. Hyde’ likes me.” He made a little smug face at his _“clever”_ joke that Jeremy refused to admit to himself was cute.

“Okay, first of all, that wasn’t funny.” Jeremy said, but the smile creeping into his face said  
otherwise. “And second of all, and most importantly too, it’s random. How would you know which ni—”

“Then let me stay with you every night!” Michael turned red as his mind caught up to what his mouth had just blurted and it’s accidental implications, and Jeremy turned red, too. “I-I didn’t-. I don’t- not like tha- I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Jeremy interrupted, face as red as Michael’s hoodie, which was at the moment  
matching Michael’s face quite nicely too. “I-I mean, sure. Y-you can help.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Really? Awe—”

“On one, no, two conditions.” Jeremy interrupted. He was doing a lot of that today.

“Anything.” Michael said, completely sincere.

“First, we go to one of those meetings. Together. For safety reasons, support, and help, and... s- stuff.” He said, stuttering a little.

“Oh no problem,” Michael said cheerily. “I was planning on dragging your soon-to-be feathery ass down there anyw—”

“And second,” Jeremy interrupted again, though his time his voice was so deadly serious that it almost scared Michael. “If- If I hurt you— in _any_ way, accidentally, on purpose, indirectly, at _all!_ Hell, if I even hurt you _emotionally_ , you stop helping me. Someone else will do it, another Harpy, I-I don’t care, just- just _not_ you. If I hurt you in any way, shape, or form you stop helping me until I’m completely safe. A-and if I’ve- if I’ve already transformed permanently, you avoid me altogether. I-I mean, texting and like, phone calls would be okay but,” He shook his head, visibly shaken by the thought of hurting Michael. “No face to face contact.”

“But—” Michael started to protest.

“No! No buts, Michael! I’m not going to allow you to get hurt because of me! These are my  
terms. So you either accept them, or you don’t help me at all.”

Michael looked like he _really_ didn’t want to accept those terms, but he gritted his teeth and  
nodded tersely.

Jeremy relaxed fractionally, but he wasn’t done. “Shake on it.” He said, and Michael groaned.

“Can’t you just take my word for it?”

“Michael, you literally _just_ said not even 15 minutes ago that if I had told you not to look for me you would’ve looked for me anyway, so sorry if your word isn’t the on the list of trustworthy things right now.”

Michael groaned, fake pouting a little, but stretched out his hand. High five, switch hands, ankle clap. “Okay,” Jeremy said, smiling and looking visibly more relaxed. “You can help me.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool,” Michael said with a kind of fake nonchalance. “but uh, Jere?”

“Yeah?”

“How are we supposed to get down from here?”

***************C-c-c-c’mon, c-c-c-c’mon, go, go. C-c-c-c’mon, c-c-c-c’mon, go, go.****************

45 minutes of stressful, carefully thought-out maneuvering down the tall tree later, during  
which Michael will admit to _only_ 3 whimpers of height-related fear (but Jeremy totally remembers _at_ _least_ 6), Michael and Jeremy are both safely on the ground. “Where’s your stuff?” Michael asked.

“What do you mea—fuuuucck.” He trailed off. “It’s probably still in the public park bathroom,” the words, _or stolen_ hover uncomfortably unsaid. “That’s uh, that’s where I transformed last night.” Michael winced sympathetically.

“Do you remember what park?” Michael asked. “Maybe if we get there soon it’ll still be there.”

Jeremy listed off the park name almost mechanically, zoning out slowly in his dread. But he  
came back to Earth when Michael took his hand in his and started off towards the park in question. And if Jeremy zoned out again staring transfixed at Michael’s hand clasped around his, well, nobody needed to know.

In his out of it state he’d pretty much completely missed the fact that they’d stopped and were outside of the public men’s bathroom at the park. “—emy? Jeremy?” Michael’s fingers snapped in front of his face, breaking him out of his stupor.

He looked up at Michael, cheeks dusted with a generous helping of pink. “I, uh—what?” Michael laughed, and Jeremy was too flustered to notice the way Michael’s cheeks were also red.

“We’re here,” Michael said, letting go of Jeremy’s hand. He tried to ignore how empty the  
absence of Michael’s hand in his made him feel.

“O-oh, uh, good.” He stuttered out, going into the bathroom. He let out a breathy sigh of relief when he saw the backpack, “boyf” still stubbornly graffitied onto it. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but he’d been more worried about losing the ‘boyf’pack, and all it represented, than the things in it. Which was, stupid, and didn’t make sense. He unzipped the backpack and was happy to see that all of his things were still there. Slinging it over his shoulder, he exited the bathroom.

“It’s all good,” He said, and Michael grinned at him.

“That’s great! I hoped it would be.” And Michael’s smile sent butterflies aflutter excitedly in  
Jeremy’s stomach.

“S-so, uh, l-let’s go?” He said.

Michael laughed. “Was that supposed to be a question, Miah?” He asked, raising a teasing  
eyebrow and continuing to laugh.

“Sh-shut up,” Jeremy muttered, face red, Michael still laughing.

But he stopped laughing when Jeremy grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers together. Jeremy was stubbornly looking away from Michael to hide his beet red face, but if he had been looking he would’ve seen the way Michael’s face turned bright red in a kind of flustered shock, before easily melting away into a warm crimson glow and an incredibly fond expression aimed at Jeremy that can only really come from being totally, helplessly, completely, _stupidly_ in love.

The time seemed to fly by and before Jeremy knew it he was back home, standing on his front porch. Michael turned to him and his smile was so warm and affectionate it sent his mind to war with itself. Half wanted to feel Michael’s smile against his own again, to _taste_ the affection, the other desperately declared that he doesn’t deserve to be the person that look is aimed at, is meant for. But they did come to an agreement on one thing, worthy or not, Jeremy Heere _really_ loved Michael Mell.

“So, uh,” Michael started, derailing Jeremy’s train of thought. “I’ll be back later, but I think first you and your dad have some stuff to” he made a complicated, kind of all over the place (and incredibly endearing) hand gesture, “...work out. Alone. I’m not supposed to be a part of that conversation.” He said, and his little half smile was probably one of the lovliest things Jeremy had ever seen.

Michael started turning around to leave, but when he started untangling their fingers to pull away Jeremy selfishly tugged his hand back. Apparently the permanent transformation happened gradually in bits and pieces because what would’ve normally been a light tug not even enough to sway Michael to one side or the other turned out to be essentially a full blown yank towards him because the next thing Jeremy knew Michael was pressed up entirely against him, looking as surprised and flustered as Jeremy felt (and probably looked too), the weight and force of him leaning Jeremy ever so slightly backwards with nothing but the floor to catch his fall, and heart beating like the frantic stampeding of the wildebeest from the Lion King. Jeremy feared that one wrong move could send his heart spiraling off the ledge and crushed under the stampeding of his semi-repressed emotions fighting for control.

Then the weight started to take it’s toll and Jeremy was leaning much too far backwards quite suddenly, eyes widening and arms beginning to pinwheel in a desperate attempt to catch himself. But then Michael caught him with his arm and Jeremy’s arms immediately stopped, resting slung around the back of Michael’s neck. If Jeremy could think about anything other than Michael at the moment, he probably would’ve been embarrassed by how much it looked like Michael was dipping him in a dance.

But alas, all Jeremy could do was marvel in the color of Michael’s eyes, in the strength masked behind gentleness in his arms, the exact shape of his smile. And as Michael slowly lifted him back upright on his feet, their bodies touching at the knees and limbs still intertwined in one way or another, faces dangerously close, Jeremy’s internal monologue had changed entirely and exclusively into _“Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.”_

Michael smiled warmly at him and Jeremy’s knees buckled. He leaned in closer and Jeremy’s  
breath didn’t just _hitch_ in his throat, it went ahead and _bought **property**_ in his throat. He was centimeters away and then- “While you were ‘running away for our own safety’, you missed like all of the study guides for finals week in 2 days.” Then he hugged Jeremy tightly and pulled away, leaving with a quiet, “Mahal Kita.”

It took a second to process and then, “Fuck!” He really would need to ‘watch out’. God, he hated finals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Michael’s kicking himself for not kissing Jeremy too. No, Jeremy still doesn’t know what  
> “mahal kita” actually means. Yes they’ve already ‘confessed’ but Jeremy’s so used to repressing his  
> emotions that he ups his suffering, plus self-worth issues. Also do you guys want to see the father son  
> bonding chapter?


End file.
